The Moon, Its Mirror and Its Lover
by Planeswalker
Summary: Jareth is held captive in his own palace by his devious half brother, who is intent on drawing a secret power from a mortal girl named Cynthia whom Jareth has come to desire. What's a Goblin King to do? Please R&R!
1. Disaster, A Wild Night, A Mystery

Oki doki folks! Here's the deal: I do not own Labyrinth or any of the characters blah-blah-blah.

I do own Cynthia X3 (yummy!) and any other non-Labyrinth characters unless otherwise stated blah-blah-blahbitty-blah. So, enjoy the story!

By the way, Cynthia's name means _the moon personified_. Hot eh:D

/o/o/o/o/o/

In a room of black marble, a shade paced angrily. Nothing could please him. Not the elegant marble columns, not the beautiful black silks, not even his stygian throne; onyx carved so finely it appeared less stone and more stiff black lace. Wild blonde hair flew into his mismatched eyes. He was the _king_ damnit. And not any king, _The_ _Goblin King_. But the fact remained:

He was a prisoner in his own palace.

/o/o/o/o/o/

Cynthia woke to a hand sliding over her bare skin. Her eyes snapped open.

'_Oh wow...' _she thought to herself, _'where am I...'_

She remembered going to the bar with her friends for her 19th birthday.

"_Time for the drukening to begin, girls!!"_

She remembered her first six drinks or so...

"_Mmm... what _is_ this? Tastes like bubble gum! Heeeee! My tongue is bluuuuuueee!"_

She remembered catching the eye of the hot bartender...

"_I'm done my shift now, do you wanna come back to my place?"_

She remembered an intent and passionate kiss against the wall of his bedroom...

"_You do taste like bubble gum..."_

'_... Oh dear.'_ Cynthia carefully extracted herself from the bartender's muscled arm and collected the pieces of her outfit from the night before. The trail of clothes laid out the story of her seduction. Her face burned with shame. _'I can't even believe I went home with some guy I don't know... Why the hell didn't Annie and Moxie stop me!'_ The answer came to her, obvious, clear- infuriating! _'They're always saying I need to get laid...' _Cythia squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to growl audibly. Finally fully clothed, Cynthia bid a silent adieu to... Dwayne? Don? Darren? _'Oh well, if I can't remember, it can't be _that_ important..._'

As she tiptoed across the tiny apartment, the exit still painfully far away. Then, the worst happened. A digitized voice emanating form her purse began to shriek Mozart's _Eine Klein Nachtmusik_.

"Fuckfuckfuuuuuck!" she whispered, trying to simultaneously shut her phone up and escape from the Dwayne-Don-Darren's apartment. At that moment, the young bartender sat up in bed, looking around groggily. They made eye contact. He realized Cynthia's intentions were clear.

She bolted.

"Wait!" he called after her, "I didn't get your number!" but she was gone, out the door, down the stairs and around the corner, running down the street as fast as she can, giggling madly.

"Woohoo!" she yelled to no one in particular, jogging through the downtown towards the transit center. An old couple walking together glared at her as though happiness was illegal. She came to a stop where her bus was to arrive and sat down on an empty bench letting the early morning breeze play with her hair.

Ok, so she'd slept with a hot mysterious bartender whose name possibly began with a D. Worse things had happened. It was an act a little beyond her morals, but hey, it was sunny and clear and remarkably warm for March.

'_Life goes on_.' she thought to herself as the bus pulled up and paying her fare, allowed her thoughts to meander wherever they wanted.

/o/o/o/o/o/

The pacing shade, known in his own world as Jareth, found a letter placed carefully in the center of his throne. Glowering, he picked it up and impatiently broke the seal; a rose, ever so carefully imprinted in black wax. The letter, written in a deep burgundy ink in a scrawling, bold hand, read:

_Dearest Jareth,_

_It is unfortunate you are so incompetent. _

At this, Jareth nearly tore the letter to shreds; his curiosity over its contents be damned. With some effort, he reined in his temper and continued reading.

_It is unfortunate, because up until now you had been doing such a spectacular job at ruling your silly little kingdom. Unfortunate for _you_ that is. For me, it is rather the opposite. As you mysteriously let your guard down last night, I infiltrated your palace, and sealed you in your chamber. No need to congratulate me on that marvelous bit of work, I'm sure I know exactly how pleased you are by it. _

_Now, to the point. The owner of your palace is granted certain powers regarding our realm, such as the date of garden parties and, more importantly, the coming and going of mortals. Since your tussle with that silly little girl all those years ago, you've been loath to let any more lovely young things enter this realm. _

'_Why?' you might ask 'do I want a mortal woman to enter this quaint dimension of ours?'. That is for me to know, and for you to wonder ceaselessly about. What I intend to do is not your problem. Once I have achieved my goal, I will release you, and you may go upon your not-so-merry way, sulking in your grand and grotesque Goblin City as you were before I took advantage of your lapse in attention._

_I thank you again for the use of your palace,_

_Your Loving Brother_

_PS. Speaking of lovely young things, you know that girl Cynthia you've had your eye on? She should be making her debut here any day now..._

When Jareth was done with the letter, it turned to ash in his hands. It was true that he'd taken to watching a young woman named Cynthia. But how did his brother know this, and what did he want with her?

"Brother..." he muttered to the empty room, "what are you up to this time..."

/o/o/o/o/o/

Well, that's all for this chapter! Yes, it was short, but there will be more! Aren't you curious what Jareth's oh-so-devious brother is up to?

Please review! Constructive criticism always appreciated :)

Thankies!

Planeswalker


	2. Impatience, A False Bride, A Promise

Lalalaaa! We have Chapter II folkses!

Disclaimer: I don't own Labyrinth... or David Bowie (damn, damn, double damn) or even a pair of leggings ;) I do own Cynthia and the gorgeous and suave evil brother of Jareth.

On with the show!

/o/o/o/o/o/

Cynthia returned to her empty house feeling a twinge of envy for her parents, who were now surely lounging on some sunny tropical beach, and flew down the stairs to her bedroom to make an entry into her journal:

_Dear Jourrrrrrrnal!!_

_Last night was a blast! _

She scrawled happily away sitting on her bed, recounting what she could remember and inventing what she could not. Finally satisfied with the result, she closed the flowery little book and replaced it on her shelf. As she did so, something unusual caught her eye.

'The Labyrinth_? Where did this come from?'. _

The eye-catching little red tome had been placed between her copies of 'Dracula' and 'Wuthering Heights'. She plucked it from the shelf and gave it the once-over. No, she had definitely never seen this book before. She opened it.

At that moment a strong wind battered the window behind her, startling her.

"Jeez..." she muttered, standing up on the bed to lower her blinds. She turned back to face the room and froze.

There, standing in the centre of her bedroom, was a man. He smiled carefully, the very corners of his lips slowly curling to express his pleasure at her reaction. He had long straight hair, black as jet, and pale blue, slanted eyes whose gaze were locked intently upon her. A warm voice rolled from his lips to caress her;

"Well hello there."

She knew no more.

/o/o/o/o/o/

With his legs crossed in a completely haphazard but still masculine way, Jareth drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. He was frustrated, he was curious, he was _bored_.

'_What the _devil_ is that bastard up to?'_

He sighed, his thoughts wandering to Cynthia. Her hair was shorter than he usually found attractive in a woman, just reaching her chin. It was longer in the front, shorter in the back and madly curly all over. The rich brown shade of her hair put him in mind of other human confections, such as dark chocolate and unsweetened coffee and blessed sin. He kept thinking of sending her the book... planting within her the compulsion to make a wish... whisking her away to his kingdom... showing her true magic... kissing her full lips... caressing the curve of her pale neck...

It was enough to drive a man insane. Especially since she had taken to spending more time with human boys. Jareth snarled at the thought. Pathetic, snivelling, cowardly, disgusting human boys. They were a dime a dozen; drink-buying, rump-pinching, self-important nitwits.

And last night... she had gone to the home of that barkeep... Jareth twitched.

But all that was not important now. It was possible she was in danger. It was possible- he hated to think it- but it was possible that his _dear_ brother had his hands on her.

He looked down at his own hands and realized they had curled themselves into fists. He relaxed them with a soft creak of black leather gloves.

'_How did that bastard manage all of this?'_

Jareth sighed for what must have been the thousandth time, and shifted on his throne, now crossing his left leg over his right and leaning his head on a gloved hand.

'_God damn you, Jachai...'_

Jachai; the first son, the true son, forced to live in the shadow of his elder brother, a strange fair-haired bastard with discordantly coloured eyes. The signs and portents had all pointed to Jareth as the best choice for a future ruler and so heir to the throne he had become. The falling out between brothers had begun at an early age. Their parents had preferred Jareth, and had made no attempt to hide the fact. As soon as it was considered suitable, the dark-haired Jachai had been married off to the dull, frail, doll-like princess of a far-away ally kingdom. Jareth had not really heard from him since. Had he been plotting to regain power in the Goblin Kingdom all this time?

No. It could not be. The letter had stated a need to _borrow_ power there, nothing more. Each time Jareth tried to puzzle through the issue he was left with more questions than he had when he'd begun. He would have to wait for his brother to reveal to him purpose... or not...

/o/o/o/o/o/

She awoke in an unknown place, feeling unusual. She hurt everywhere. He eyes fluttered open, the stereotypical awakening princess. An exquisite male face hovered above her own. The face was long and thin, and would have been almost feminine if not for the strong, straight aquiline nose centred upon it. The slanted, pale blue eyes bore an expression of concern.

"Elethayne, are you awake darling?" The words slipped from between soft lips borne on a round, seductive tenor voice.

She opened her mouth to respond, and was surprised by the smallness of her own voice.

"Where I am?" She sat up, slowly, helped by the handsome man at her side. "Who are you?"

The man groaned and looked away, sweeping his long, dark hair over one shoulder.

"Not again..."

"What is it Sir? Have I upset you?"

He looked upon her tenderly.

"My name is Jachai, and I... am your husband." He rose from the bed and paced a while, looking preoccupied and concerned. He sat down beside her once more. "We have business here in my brother's kingdom, and because we live so far away I transported us magically. Unfortunately, due to your frail constitution, you have lost your memory."

She gasped. Her memory, gone? But it must be true, for she knew nothing but what he had told her. Her name was Elethayne, his was Jachai and he was her husband. They were in the kingdom of his brother on business. She looked around the room. Luxury met her every glance.

"Is your brother the king?"

"Yes, his name is Jareth," Had she heard the barest shred of contempt in the pronunciation of his brother's name? "and once you are dressed, I shall take you to meet him."

"Meet him again you mean?" she laughed.

"Yes, of course." There was a strained quality to Jachai's voice as he turned away. "Again."

/o/o/o/o/o/

The silence of Jareth's throne room was broken suddenly by a knock on the great doors at the other end of the long marble hall. Who could it possibly be? All occupants of the palace save him had been expelled, and the new occupant, his brother, had no reason to knock.

'_Cheeky bastard...'_

"Enter." called Jareth ironically.

The doors opened. Sure enough, it was his brother. He was clothed in a pure white linen that stood in stark contrast to both his own dark hair and Jareth's black leather garb. The Goblin King was preparing a scathing comment when a second smaller figure entered the room.

Jareth couldn't bring himself to tear his eyes away. The woman wore a dress of the same material of Jachai's robes. Unlike the dark-haired man's shapeless and flowing garb, her gown was cut to accent the curviness of her body and draw attention to her- dare he think in such clichés- ample bosom. For ample it was, but not overmuch. As she swayed closer, following a step behind Jachai, the sashaying hips of the perfect hourglass figure mesmerized him. Her short curly hair had been crowned with piece of delicate silver artistry. Some milky, gleaming gem (an opal perhaps?) dangled from it to rest near the centre of her forehead. They were mere feet from the throne now. Her eyes met Jareth's for a moment, and she smiled shyly. It was enough to send a current of need from the soles of his fit to the tips of his flyaway hair.

He was smitten.

Again, that is, for the woman standing before him at his brother's side was none other than the mortal for whom he had fallen.

He opened his mouth to speak but, for once, words failed the usually silver-tongued king.

She was here, before him. A living, breathing goddess. He put all the questions about his brother aside. Finally, he spoke:

"Cynthia-"

He was quickly interrupted by the smooth laugh of his brother.

"Elethayne, you mean, don't you dearest brother?" Jachai shook his head with furrowed eyebrows, feigning disappointment, but Jareth could see the spark of challenge deep within his eyes. "I know you haven't seen my dear wife in quite a while, but it's another thing completely to call her by another name!" The dark-haired brother laughed, placing a long-fingered, pale hand upon his wife's shoulder. Jareth fought to keep his lip from curling in contempt.

'_You were never much for acting brother... and what have you done to Cynthia?'_

Jachai went on: "Well, no matter. It seems Jareth, that my dearest Elethayne has gone and lost her memory again, so it's all introductions from here in any case." He smiled sweetly at his 'wife'. "Go on darling, introduce yourself."

Cynthia approached the throne and curtsied deeply. She remained motionless for what seemed an unnaturally long period. Jareth broke the strange silence.

"You've made an excellent show of your balance, dear, but why don't you stand now?"

There was no reply.

Jachai burst into raucous laughter. Jareth realized his brother had momentarily frozen time. All his pent-up anger, sealed momentarily away by the stunning effect of Cynthia's beauty, bubbled back to the surface. The Goblin King swept from his throne past Cynthia and down the stairs to where his brother stood. He gripped his immaculate linen robes by the collar and glared into his brother's pale eyes. His breathing was agitated. He could barely speak coherently through his fury; his speach clipped and tense.

"What do you intend?"

Jachai looked calmly back into his brother's ire-filled eyes, and greeted his enraged speech with a pretentious chuckle.

"Intend, brother? Intend in regards to what?"

Jareth twitched. He _hated_ the way his brother emphasized the 'wh' sound at the beginning of the word 'what', drawing it out unnecessarily. It irked him more so now.

"In _regards_ to the girl, in _regards_ to my palace!"

The dark-haired brother's lips curled slowly into a cat-like smile.

"That would be none of your business Jareth."

The Goblin King's grip tightened on his brother's collar.

"I have just decided to _make_ it my business."

The faintest bit of irritation entered Jachai's slanted eyes.

"Do you know how many charms, bewitchments and enchantments bind that girl at this moment? I could end her life with less than a thought." he contemplated in exaggerated fashion, "Why, I could even do it by _accident_ should I become too vexed..."

Jareth loathly release his brother, and none to gently. Jachai grinned broadly. The grin withered and died, leaving nothing in its place but impatience and scorn upon his chiselled features.

"_Good_. Now sit back down in your fancy little chair, and we shall proceed normally." he paused, walking over to Cynthia to caress her curls. "Anything out of the ordinary," he snarled, "and I shall snuff her like an old candle." His caress travelled down to her pale neck, tightening as illustration of his threat.

The Goblin King did as he was told. Jachai's cheerful expression returned to his face.

"And, on with the show." Cynthia rose from her bow.

"I'm pleased to meet you, King Jareth."

Jareth seethed internally.

'_Damnit all. I need to play well and wait for my chance.'_

A charming grin unfolded upon his face.

"Ah, dearest sister Elethayne. It has been so long since I have seen you I had taken you for a cousin of mine." he took her hand and kissed it tenderly, lingering long enough to irritate his brother. "You must come visit me, and we'll speak of old times."

Cynthia reddened a little. It was possible this man was even more gorgeous than her husband. There was something sensuous and animal about him; the wild hair, the unmatched eyes, the brazen grin. Jachai spoke suddenly:

"Elethayne is not at her best. The loss of memory has possibly affected her health, I would rather she see a physic before wandering about the palace-"

"Oh, nonsense!" interrupted Jareth, "I shall examine her myself." His eyebrows had lifted slightly at the word 'examine', causing a wave of excitement to run the course of Cynthia's body.

"I should love to remember my past." she commented breathlessly.

"I am sure you would," muttered Jachai sullenly, "but for now we must return to our chambers. You may not know it, but you need your rest. Jareth would never want anything that would run counter to your _health_, now would he?"

The message was clear. Let it go, or else.

"Of course brother."

A victorious smile from the younger brother.

"Excellent." Jachai gave a curt nod.

Jareth made a point of meet Cynthia's gaze.

"We shall meet again soon, Elethayne."

Her lips parted as her expression shifted to one of intense desire.

"Yes, soon..." she replied, nearly voiceless.

"But not too soon." finished Jachai.

The couple turned and walked from the room, the dark brother's mind full of ire and plotting, Cynthia's clouded with a powerful want.

The Goblin King simply smiled to himself as they walked away.

'_Much sooner than you know Cynthia...'_ Jareth allowed himself a private chuckle.

'_When the moon rises tonight, I shall make you mine.'_

/o/o/o/o/o/

dramatic music Oh ho!

Is Jareth going to get his leather-clad paws on our forgetful 'princess'? Will Jachai interfere?

Will Jareth discover his brother's true purpose?!

... Tune in next time to find out:)

Please be so good as to review.

All comments and constructive criticism appreciated.

Until next time!

Planeswalker


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